


Sweet

by ladyjax



Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: Comrades in Arms, F/F, Female Character of Color, Femslash, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:07:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26354689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyjax/pseuds/ladyjax
Summary: "Abigail assumed the Allotment was earthy crunchy ladies, drinking tea and making pottery; things that a High Atlantic would never be caught doing.  Fall harvest time was a surprise."
Relationships: Abigail Bellweather/Tally Craven
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16
Collections: Summer Spinoff





	Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Summer Spinoff.
> 
> Prompt: Motherland: Fort Salem: Abigail/Tally - follow my lead

Abigail assumed the Allotment was earthy crunchy ladies, drinking tea and making pottery; things that a High Atlantic would never be caught doing. Fall harvest time was a surprise. As was seeing Tally stripped to the waist, wearing work pants, a breast band, and a broad brimmed hat, her skin pinking in the sun as she picked nectarines in the communal orchard. 

“Not getting a lot done are you?” Tally’s teasing call shook Abigail from her reverie and she looked down at her basket seeing that she had half as much produce as the other pickers. She climbed down her ladder, careful not to spill her hard won bounty, and set the basket at her feet. Tally climbed down as well, handing off her basket to another to put on the truck and walking over

“I got a little distracted,” Abigail said lightly “I need to work on my technique.” Tally’s slow smile stoked the flame that was already burning inside of Abigail. She’d been on edge for the last few days; being in Tally’s mother’s house had been an exercise in restraint. Never mind that she’d been subjected to the worst sort of teasing from Tally: a touch on the back of the hand, fingers sliding over an exposed shoulder.

Tally’s eyes sparkled as she pushed her hat back, and stepped in close. Heat, blessed, maddening heat, practically radiated off the other woman. Abigail groaned as Tally reached just behind her head to pick a nectarine off a low hanging branch and held it up in front of her. 

“I guess I’ll have to show how to do it again,” Tally said musingly. She bit into the fruit, chewed and swallowed, her lips wet and inviting with nectarine juice. Then she held it out to Abigail. “Follow my lead.”

Brown hands curled around pale, gave a little tug to bring the fruit to her mouth. “Wherever you go, lady,” Abigail whispered and took a bite.


End file.
